


Five Times Cassian Slept With The Lights On

by bearonthecouch



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Backstory, F/M, Fix-It, Kid Cassian, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 07:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15068261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearonthecouch/pseuds/bearonthecouch
Summary: Cassian sleeps with the lights on. There are too many ghosts in the dark.





	Five Times Cassian Slept With The Lights On

I.  
In the aftermath of the protest, clone troopers round up the children, pulling them away from the bodies and the blood. They ask their names and ages and birth planets and scan for fingerprints and retinal prints and Cassian has never been a citizen, but he is now. Whether he wants to be or not. He would rather have a father than a scandoc.

When the aid workers are finished, he sits on the pallet and wraps his arms around his knees, tucking his body up tight so that no one can hurt him. The lights are bright above his head, but even so, all around him, children are snoring, sprawled out on their own pallets, not seeming to care. Cassian is tired too, but he keeps his eyes open, warily watching the older and bigger boys who sit with their backs to the wall and their eyes on the room. Cassian knows that’s the smart thing to do, but those coveted safer positions are all taken. He could fight to claim one, but… he looks around, at the men in Republic uniforms, strategically positioned around the room. They carry guns, and Cassian doesn’t know if they are set to stun or kill. With the Republic, you never know. It’s safer not to test them. That first night, he doesn’t sleep.

The second night, he lays curled up on his side and imagines his father carding his fingers through his hair and whispering to him, stories of the past and promises of a better future. Cassian squeezes his eyes shut. His father is dead, and he doesn’t believe in ghosts. He doesn’t believe in the future, either. He sleeps. The lights blaze bright above him.

II.  
Major Davits Draven will not let Cassian sleep.

Cassian is far too good a soldier to disobey a superior officer, but his head is buzzing. His stomach churns, a familiar reminder that it’s been far too many hours since his last meal. His shoulder burns with pain, from the deep cut from the vibroknife he hadn’t known his contact was carrying, until it was too late. Blood still soaks his shirt. It’ll be a new scar. He has so many. He wants to tend to the wound. He stands at attention instead, waiting for Draven’s inevitable reprimand.

But the Major hasn’t started in yet, so maybe there’s still hope.

“Can this wait?” Cassian asks, cautiously.

Draven’s eyes widen. His lips curl. “No, this can’t wait! It was a simple task, Andor. One you failed to perform.”

Cassian hangs his head. He failed. He already knows he failed, he doesn’t need Draven to tell him so. “You’ll have a report in the morning, sir,” he says, and his voice must give away his exhaustion, but Draven doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does notice and he just doesn’t care.

“I don’t want a report in the morning. I want you to tell me what happened now.”

Cassian shrugs. “The Empire got to her before we did, Sir.”

“And you didn’t notice?”  
  
Cassian should have noticed, shouldn’t have walked in to make an exchange with a double agent. He should have paid better attention, should have picked up on the clues. But he didn’t.

He shakes his head, in answer to Draven’s question.

“You neutralized her?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He holds his breath, wondering what comes next, if there will be some sort of official censure in his file. But Draven just glares at him. And then:

“You’re lucky you’re not dead, Andor.”

It doesn’t seem like the kind of comment that needs a reply, yet Draven seems to expect one. So Cassian nods. “Yes, Sir.”

“You might not be so lucky next time.”

“I know. Sir.”

Draven sighs, looks him over. Almost looks… soft. Almost looks sad. Just for a second, and then it’s gone. Cassian’s not sure he didn’t imagine it. “Report to Medical. And I’ll expect that report in the morning.”

Cassian nods, and does as he is told.

The lights are always on in Medical. He is too tired to care.

III.  
Cassian is alone in a Rebel safehouse. He does not feel safe. He locks the door, deadbolts it, pulls a table in front of it, just to be sure. He sits on the edge of the bed that’s been tucked into the corner. He needs to sleep. His eyes are gritty with fatigue and he’s noticeably shaking. He’s been living on stims for nearly a week. Keep this up and he’s going to get himself killed.

He lays down on the bed, curled up tight.

When he closes his eyes he hears Farrin calling his name. Begging. “Cassian, help me! Cassian!” There was no helping Farrin. A stormtrooper’s blaster bolt had punched through his gut. A painful wound. A fatal wound. But not an instant kill.

They hid in the sewer, under the street, listening to the tromping of Imperial patrols just above them.

Farrin’s fingers scrabbled at Cassian’s coat, grabbing and pulling, trying to stop Cassian from leaving. Cassian had shrugged off the coat and put his hands over Farrin’s mouth to stop him screaming. His screaming would give them away. Eventually, Farrin stopped struggling and Cassian isn’t sure whether he’d killed the man or the blaster bolt did. He isn’t sure it matters.

Cassian sleeps alone in the safehouse.

He keeps the lights on. There are too many ghosts in the dark.

IV.  
Cassian is almost certain the droid is going to try to kill him. If the memory wipe didn’t work, why would the power down command? The droid is still and darkened, standing at the back of the cockpit, the bulkhead curving gently around it. Cassian doesn’t trust it. He sits in the pilot’s chair and glances over his shoulder every few seconds. The droid still doesn’t move. Cassian crosses his arms over his chest and stares out at the mottled colors of hyperspace. He tilts his chair back, just a little. The droid still doesn’t move. Cassian risks closing his eyes.

While he sleeps, light sparks in the droid’s eyes. Cassian snaps to alertness.

“What is my purpose here?” the droid asks.

“What?” Cassian’s voice is still slurred and sleepy, but he is awake enough to draw his blaster and point it at the droid.

“Please put the gun down.”

Cassian frowns. What kind of droid says please? “How do I know you’re not going to attack me?”

“If I was going to attack you, it is statistically probable that I would have done so already.”

“You would have killed me while I was sleeping.”

“Yes. But I did not.”

Cassian nods, slowly. He doesn’t trust the droid, but he can concede that it makes a valid point. He still does not lower the gun.

“What is my purpose here, Lieutenant Cassian Andor?”

“You’re a security droid, aren’t you? So just… provide security.”

“You want me to watch your back.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow. What kind of droid uses _idioms_? But he nods. “Yeah. I want you to watch my back.” He rolls over onto his side and closes his eyes again. He keeps the gun in his hand.

The droid's bright eyelights never flicker or falter. Cassian sleeps.

V.  
Everything hurts, and he feels it, but...

He sits on the beach and closes his eyes and his fingers are tangled up with Jyn’s and he can hear her breathing and the rush of the waves. And he isn’t sleeping, not quite, but he isn’t afraid, even though he should be.

And the light is so, so bright.

 

(and one time he didn’t)  
Cassian’s arm falls over Jyn, and she hums a happy kind of note as she snuggles in closer to him. He plays with her hair, breathing deeply, glad for the scent of her, the feel of her. Glad for _her_. They are both so desperately glad to be alive, they are unwilling to let go of each other now. Even in the debrief, they couldn’t stop touching each other. The Generals surely noticed, but no one said anything. Mon Mothma had even smiled at them.

Cassian has watched a lot of people die, and he has narrowly escaped death several times, but he has never sat next to someone and been absolutely sure they were breathing their last breaths… but then they weren’t.

This is new.

This is… good.

Jyn reaches out to palm the switch that will turn out the lights.

“Cassian sleeps with the lights on,” K-2SO says. The droid is keeping watch from the corner of the room. He has accepted Jyn’s presence without comment. Like she’s belonged here all along.

Cassian shakes his head. “It’s alright, K2. I’ll be alright.”


End file.
